


The Pleasure of a Smile

by dizzy



Category: Sanctuary - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-12
Updated: 2010-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy





	The Pleasure of a Smile

Dimples.

That's what makes her look so young, so sweet.

Magnus has dimples, and they're downright adorable.

Or is it her hair? He likes it the way it is now, pulled back, curling slightly on the ends. She looks cute in a ponytail.

Maybe it's that she isn't wearing any makeup. Her skin is fresh and smooth and glowing. Her cheeks are pink, a bit of sunburn from their trek the day before.

"What," she asks, without looking up from her notebook, "on earth are you staring at, Will?"

He's not surprised to have been caught. She's observant, the most observant person he's ever known, and it never surprises him anymore. He shrugs, settling back against the tree, trying in vain to get comfortable. "You."

She does look up at that. She's confused. That's kinda cute, too. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah," he says, and she automatically raises a hand to the corner of her mouth. "Dimples."

"What?" She scrunches her forehead up.

"You have dimples on your face," he says. "And they're cute."

She looks slightly flustered. Go figure, she can take just about anything with an impassive expression, but she blushes when you call her cute.

"Don't be ridiculous," she murmurs, looking back down, but she's writing a bit too intently now. He grins. He remembers the same reaction from the girl he had a crush on in high school.

Well, that's a thought.

(Not a thought he's going to linger on right now, though.)

He lets her go back to her writing, and he goes back to his daydreaming. For a few minutes, at least, until something else pops into his head. "Do you have any pictures of you when you were pregnant?"

"What?" She looks at him again. "Why-"

"I'm just curious," he says. "I can't picture that. You, pregnant. It's kinda weird."

"I... I'm sure some exist, but I wouldn't begin to know where."

It's a lie. He can tell right away, he can read her fairly well now. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."

Besides, she keeps photo albums, he's seen them locked away in her office. "You are being a bother. If you aren't going to work, at least let me get my thoughts out on paper."

"I want to see them, when we get back to the sanctuary," he says, ignoring her comment entirely.

"No," she says. "It was horrendous. I was ill the entire time."

"I bet you _glowed_ ," he grins.

"I gained too much weight." She frowns, and he sees that hint of vanity that so rarely comes out in her expressions, though is glaringly obvious from how well she puts herself together. Hair done, makeup impeccable, clothes always trendy and costly. Even now - that jacket, that shirt, those pants. They flatter her figure, and they're chosen with care. Helen Magnus has a shallow streak, she wants to look her best.

"I'll see those pictures," he promises her, just to see if she'll fall for the bait. She huffs at him, giving in. He likes that. She trusts him with her annoyance, with her gut reactions to things. She's got a carefully crafted mask that most of the world sees, and there are only a handful of people that she lets her guard down around. That he's one of them - it's a heady thing. He wants to offer her something in return. "I can't imagine you ever not being beautiful."

It's a tricky thing to say, a tricky compliment to pay. The tone has to be just right - light, casual, not too intense, not too serious. Like it's nothing, nothing to get awkward over, nothing to linger on.

It works. She looks up at him and gives him a wide flash of a smile, dimples and all.


End file.
